Working on Mysteries Without any Clues
by pinkmink
Summary: Destiel love story - Trouble brews in New Mexico with sightings of Krampus. Hot from a fight with Cas, the boys run at said trouble. Sam plays Dr Phil to Dean and his angel. Smooching ensues.
1. Chapter 1

A/N - So much of Supernatural for me is the music - and I've used a great deal of it in this story. If you're interested, there is a playlist on Spotify I've created of music from this fic called "Running with the Devil" - but really, you could search any "Dean's Playlist" and you'd get these tunes.

This story is complete, but I'm still working on editing later chapters. Most should be out in the week.

Lastly, there is a sequel in the works. Didn't expect to get so inspired! Here we go, please review if you enjoy!

 **Chapter One**

"I can't fight this feeeeeelin this feeling anymore. I've forgotten what I've started fighting foooorrr."

"Really Dean?!"

"And if I have to crawl upon your floor, come crashing through your door - baby I can't fight this feeling anymore!"

Sam huffed and stared out the window at the barren Texas countryside. It had been hours, HOURS of just this; Dean singing his lungs out to whatever classic rock station he could get clearly on the Impala's old radio. It was the only way he could drown out the rest of his brain. The ugly, plain road laid out before him, straight for miles, it gets one to thinking about life, events - stuff he'd rather leave in mixed with his baby's dust, frankly.

If he were being honest, he was awfully tired of fighting some particular feelings - but when has being tired ever stopped him from continuing on like a locomotive.

"I live my life, like there's no tomorrow.

And all I've got, I've had to steal

Least I don't need to beg or borrow

Yes I'm living at a pace that kills"

He leaned his head back and shouted, "Running with the devil!"

"This is very appropriate."

"Shut your pie-hole Sam."

"It's more often than not, my salad-hole and no, I won't." Sam turned down the music to a dull roar. "You've been going for hours like this. Are you actually going to talk about what happened, or just scream all the way to New Mexico?"

"I'm just enjoying my sweet ride and classic rock like every red-blooded American man should." Dean leaned forward and blasted the music again. Did he want to talk? Fuck no. He didn't even know what to say about last night. All he really knew for sure is it made him really upset - not that he would stop to consider why.

* * *

"And that is why the birth of Christ was actually in the fall, like around September, according to your most recent type of calendar." Castiel finished as he brought the last bite of apple pie to his lips. He smiled slightly, which is the way he tastes all food - like he's enjoying the thought of eating it as much as actually eating it. Dean watched him carefully, observing the lines in his jaw move, the few days stubble dusting his neck. They sat in the grand room of the bunker, polishing off the last of their enormous meal - something had crawled up Sam's ass and he had decided to make the three of them a friggin feast. Probably had to do with the fact that the grocery store had a day after Thanksgiving sale on all the turkeys that didn't sell - he had waited until about a week before Christmas to make it. If the three of them were a nuclear family unit, Sam was definitely the wife. The thought made Dean smirk.

"What is it?" Castiel asked, meeting his eyes. They were a soft blue, comfortable. The familiar melody of Stairway to Heaven began to croon from the old lp player on a lower book shelf. Dean finished his bite before he spoke.

 _Oh, and it makes me wonder..._

"Nothing - good job Sammy. Who needs a wife when you can cook like this?"

"Ha, ha." But Sam smiled proudly, picking up his and Castiel's plate and walking into the kitchen.

"You know, many of the world's best chefs have been men." Cas piped up, trying to start a conversation. He sat back in his chair, familiar overcoat tossed aside and his sleeves rolled up - it was a new look. A better look. For once he looked like he belonged in his own vessel's skin.

"Oh I know - it just wouldn't be me if I didn't give him a ration of shit."

Cas smiled slightly, wiping his mouth. "I've never had turkey before - that was quite delicious. But now I feel - different?"

"Slightly sleepy? That's the tryptophan - turkey makes you tired." Castiel looked puzzled. "It's a time honored tradition - fill your belly full of bird, then fall asleep with a beer watching football."

"Interesting…"

 _Yes there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run, there's still time to change the road you're on._

 _And it makes me wonder..._

"Shh!" Dean hopped up and cranked the guitar solo. He closed his eyes - for a moment, he was Jimmy Page, air guitaring gracefully, or as graceful as such an act can be. Now that's the life he had wanted - rock and roll, women, booze, live hard, die young, no consequences. The only thing he's managed to do is die young, and even that didn't stick.

When he opened his eyes Cas was leering at him from across the table - that's the only way it could be described. The angel bit slightly at his lower lip, then seemed to snap himself out of whatever daze he was in as the song came to an end. His stare should have embarrassed Dean but he felt the opposite - some quiet part of him liked it when he looked at him like that. Like he was at the same time a delicious piece of meat and the most wondrous creature in all of creation.

"I wish I had the ability to travel in time." Castiel started, changing the subject. "I remember hearing in the day that they were amazing in concert but I didn't have the appreciation of music I do now."

"Yeah, they'd be where I'd start - or Hendrix." Dean mused, sitting back down and propping his feet on the table. He leaned forward to grab his beer. "Or Queen. Hell, I'd even settle for Skynard, if you're going to go all the way back."

"When was the last time you went to a concert, Dean?"

Dean opened his mouth, then shut it. Honestly, he couldn't remember. "High school? Maybe right after that?" He idly picked at the label on his IPA. "I didn't see anyone good, that's for sure. I remember sneaking into a Blink 182 concert, must have been about 16." The horrified look on Castiel's face was a good indication of how well he's been picking up on pop culture references. "Yeah, it was phase. I think I was just trying to flip the bird to my old man any way I could. Didn't last long."

"We should all go, one of these days." There was an odd lightness to Castiel's tone - maybe not odd so much as rare.

"Go where? To a concert?" Dean scoffed. "Yeah, sure."

"I'm serious."

"I'm sure you are Cas, as a heart attack. But we're a little busy you know, saving the world, defeating God's sister. It's not exactly like we're sitting on our thumbs." Dean felt himself grow irritated with the question. Concert? Sure, let's all just go have a picnic at the park and buy balloons too while we're at it….

"I worry sometimes that you and your brother don't spend enough time living your lives." His voice suddenly changing tone. "When's the last time you went on vacation? Or a date?"

"A date?!" Dean's voice squeaked. He coughed to regain composure before answering. "I have no trouble with the ladies, I believe that was you."

Castiel furrowed his brows and frowned. He looked genuinely offended. Good.

"I didn't mean - what I meant was, you both spend so much time fighting, and you aren't getting to experience the parts of the world you're fighting for." His words were carefully chosen, Dean could tell. He just didn't care.

"Evil doesn't take a vacation." He spat, and it sounded trite and cliche, even to his own ears. He swung his legs off the table - this whole talk was filling him with a powerful need to hit something.

"I don't even know what that means." Well now he's done it. He's pissed off an angel.

"I mean we don't get those luxuries Cas, and you know it. Why bother bringing it up?!"

"Because with the frequency you both die, it's very possible one of these days you won't come back - don't you want anything more than this?" He gestured with open arms to the bunker. The bunker that had been the only real home (besides Baby) they had ever known. Now he was insulting their home - and that really got under Dean's skin.

"Why don't you mind your own fucking business?" Dean barked and stood, grabbing his empty beer bottle as Sam walked back into the room.

"Your life is my fucking business!" Castiel growled back, with a surprising amount of rage. Some small part of Dean was very, well, _intrigued_ by an angry Cas. Just not intrigued enough to stick around through his crap.

"Woa, what the hell guys?" Sam placed his hands out in front of him as if to shield himself from the anger filling the room. You could cut the tension with a knife. Dean wanted to cut something else.

"I don't have to listen to this."

And with that, he stormed away, mind so clouded with fury he couldn't exactly put his finger on what was making him so upset.

"Dean!" Castiel called after him - his voice pleading. But it was too late.

"Fuck off, Cas!"

* * *

"Fly by night away from here,

Change my life again.

Fly by night, good bye my dear.

My ship isn't coming and I just can't pretend…"

Dean tapped his hands against the steering wheel with the drums as they neared the Texas/New Mexico border. He could have gone through Colorado to get to Santa Rosa, but there was something about a Texas sunset in his rearview mirror that settled his brain. Piercing orange sky shrouded the car, giving the trip a rosey glow. He felt a little better actually, singing his heart out.

He startled Sam a bit as he cleared his throat, the music low enough to talk. "So, we didn't talk about the specifics of this case before we hauled ass out of there this morning; care to share now?"

Sam sighed but turned to face him, his features calm. "Well, it appears to be a normal case of child abduction - except that one of the older siblings claimed they saw a figure that they described to look an awful lot like Krampus."

"Like the monster that comes at Christmas?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "You know, I always wondered if he was real. In our line of work I would think we'd have already come across him years ago. Why is this happening now?"

"Not sure - probably a great question to ask an angel…"

"Really, Sam?"

"Just - what the hell happened? We had a nice dinner, I leave the room for ten minutes and suddenly you two are about to kill each other." Dean huffed in response, but stayed quiet. "And I've seen you two try to actually kill each other before and last night was worse."

"He stuck his nose where it don't belong. That's all."

"About going on a vacation?" Dean turned to Sam sharply. "What? He talked to me afterward. Unlike you, he wants to hear my opinion."

"Alright Oprah, then if he's already filled you in, what the hell is your opinion?"

"I think he's right - we spend so much time fighting, we forget to have fun. We should be living our lives a little Dean." Sam smiled and looked at the road. "Let's face it, it's pretty damn miraculous that we _are_ still alive."

"See, that's the thing." Dean started, turning on the headlights as the last of the sun faded behind them. "We shouldn't be alive. We're living on borrowed time Sammy. My life isn't mine to enjoy, you know what I mean?"

Sam blinked a few times at Dean before he responded. "That could be the stupidest thing you've ever said. And you've said some doozies."

"Whatever."

"No - really Dean, you can't actually believe that?!"

"Why not?" His voice became gruff - he was getting frustrated again. This is exactly why he doesn't have heart to heart moments - no one really gets where he's coming from anyway. Not even his own brother. "Look, all I'm saying is, we're clearly still around to do some good here - fate doesn't keep bringing us back so we can holiday in the Hamptons."

"Don't you think we've earned a little rest?"

Dean sighed. "I think you and Cas have, yea. Me - I've got a lot to make up for. So I'll just keep plugging at it, if it's all the same to you two."

"Dean…"

"Drop it Sammy. End of talk." He meant to sound harsh, but his voice was tired, strained. His baby brother's hazel eyes were morose, but he knew when to stop pushing. Noticing an old diner off the highway, Dean decided everything was better after a burger and beer, and turned off without another word.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

They got an early start the next morning, having stayed at an old motel off the interstate after dinner. Nothing more had been said - at least to Dean - in regards to the night before. Sam had 'stepped out' rather conspicuously (though he had made some lame excuse) when his phone vibrated, likely to talk to Cas. The two of them had grown closer during their quest to free Dean of the Mark, and have remained so. Just what he needed - not only the two of them plotting against him, but doing so together.

Their first stop was the house where the first abduction took place. Santa Rosa was a fairly pleasant town, with cookie cutter housing tracts and Stepford stay at home moms. If it weren't for the 25665 written on the sidewalk in front of the house, there was very little else that distinguished the house it from every other in the neighborhood.

"The mother's name is Tracy Parks." Sam said, scrolling through the article up on his laptop as they sat parked in front of the house. "Her son Brayden was abducted about three weeks ago - her older son Jayden said he saw a 'goat man, with a long tongue' take him when they were having a sleepover in the basement."

"Brayden and Jayden? Seriously?" Dean stuffed the last of the bear claw into his mouth, then filled it with burnt gas station coffee. "Isnbdt eht ahlietthle ehrly fahr Khrmps?"

"What?"

Dean swallowed, then tried again. "Isn't it a little early for Krampus? I mean, I thought he only takes bad kids at Christmas? We're still a week away?"

"Depends on the lore - mostly yes, but the stories of Krampus vary by the region they originate in." Sam shut his laptop. "That's what is really weird to me - all the supposed sighting take place in Europe, not here."

"Well, we could have come all this way for your run of the mill pedophile Sammy. Who knows?"

They made their way to the front door and knocked. A thin blond woman answered. Her hair was perfectly messy - the kind of hairdo you spend a lot of time making look like you didn't spend a lot of time doing it. She was dressed head to toe in expensive workout clothing that matched down to her shoes - a thin layer of perspiration across her forehead was the only thing not perfect about her. Her expression was pained - could be from exercise, but it looked deeper.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, hello ma'am, are you Tracey?" Sam started as she nodded, digging his badge from his coat. "We're from the FBI, we'd like to ask you some questions about the abduction of your son. I'm Agent Baez, and this is Agent Mitchell. May we come in?"

Her face fell - and she opened the door wider. "Sure."

"Dude, seriously? Baez and Mitchell? " Dean mumbled under his breath, as they followed behind her.

"Women folk singer/songwriters from the 60's - you don't know what you're missing."

"Thanks Samantha, I'll be sure to check them out."

She led them through a grand foyer and into an even grander sitting room, perfectly decorated with all white furniture and a fire roaring in the hearth. Dean didn't know much about kids, but he did know an all white house rarely stayed that way with two young boys living in it.

"I thought the police were done asking us questions." She started, sitting on a pristine couch and motioning the other two to join her. "Has there been any new developments?"

"I'm afraid not." Sam said, leaning forward in a gesture of compassion. "I understand this is a hard time - we were hoping you could describe for us what happened that night?"

"Well, like I told the cops, my husband and I had gone to bed - he works early, and we try to keep on the same schedule during the weekends. Brayden and Jayden had decided to have a sleepover in the basement and watch movies. It wasn't very late, maybe 12:30 when Jayden came upstairs and woke us up sobbing, saying his brother was gone." Tracy paused, swallowing a lump that had formed in her throat. She looked incredibly tired all of the sudden.

"Had you heard any commotion? Or smell anything unusual?" Sam continued, as Dean sat back, trying to get a better view of the house. Perfectly posed but smiling family photos lined the walls, and there was a slight noise sounding like a radio or television coming from another room he couldn't locate. To his fairly experienced deduction, it didn't look like there was any signs that the family had anything to do with this - everything seemed normal, albeit a little neurotic.

"I didn't, and neither did my husband, until we heard Jayden."

"Could we maybe speak to your son, Mrs. Parks?" Sam continued. Her body tensed, but she nodded quietly, jumping up off the couch. They heard a door open and her calling for Jayden somewhere off the kitchen - he was probably in the basement, though that seemed strange, given that he had lost his brother there.

"Jayden, this is Agents Mitchell and Baez." Tracey was behind her son, resting her hands on his shoulders. He was blond and thin too, about six or seven years old, but his eyes were a blazing green and big. He looked like the picture perfect aryan child Dean was expecting.

"Hi Jayden." Dean started as the boy came to sit across from them. He looked terrified. "Don't be scared, we just want to ask you some questions about your brother."

"Are you gonna get the monster?" the boy squeaked, holding out to grasp his mother's hand. For her part she looked concerned but mostly tired.

"We're going to try." Sam consoled, and leaned forward again towards Jayden. "Can you tell us about what you saw?"

"It was real big. Like, bigger than my dad. Almost as big as the room!" His voice was wavering, and his words jumbled together a bit. "It was dark because we were watching the Avengers and just the TV was on, and he came in and was really quiet. I didn't even hear him except then I heard Bray say 'Hey!'" Jayden started to get a bit more animated then, throwing his arms in the air. "And he grabbed him and I said 'stop!' and he stuck his tongue out at me and it was long and pointy. It almost touched me right here." He pointed to the middle of his forehead.

"What happened then?"

"Then he jumped out the window with my brother." He calmed, and a few tears started to pour out. "So now I'm waiting down there for him. I'm gonna get him when he comes back!"

"Hey! Hey Jayden, it's ok buddy." Dean soothed, leaning forward. There was something about kids that just made him forget his bravado exterior when they were hurting. "I have a little brother too, I would do anything to protect him so I know how you feel. We're gonna get him back, ok?"

"Mhm…" Jayden replied, wiping his face and nose simultaneously, smearing snot and tears all over his face. This clearly upset Tracey, who leaned down and grabbed several tissues and began to clean every inch of his face, mid cry. Oh ok, now Dean had her pegged - stay at home wife, everything is in it's place, does not know how to handle a crisis because she is unable to function in a world that is not picture perfect. But clearly, she loves her sons.

"What were you and your brother doing? Before the monster showed up?" Sam asked, watching Tracey. He had her pegged too.

"Well, he hit me. We were playing Avengers and I was Iron Man and he was Hulk and he smashed me real hard and I started crying but it wasn't his fault, he was just playing."

"Such a violent movie, I should have never…"Tracey mumbled under her breath.

"Would you mind if we had a look downstairs?" Dean asked. "Maybe Jayden can show us?"

"Sure…" Tracey stood with Jayden, and the brothers followed them through the pristine kitchen (with something absolutely mouth watering in the crockpot on the island) and to a door that led to the basement.

The room itself wasn't disheveled in any way, though Tracey claimed she had hardly touched it since the police left. There was a single window on the left that was broken and taped over with duct tape and newspaper. It was a sizeable window, for a basement, and probably long enough to fit a man through but certainly not easily.

"I think we've seen all we came here to see, Mrs. Parks." Sam took out a little notepad and wrote down his phone number. "If you think of anything else, please reach out to us. We'll be in touch."

"Thank you." She mumbled, taking the paper and showing them out. Dean could hardly hide his stomach grumbling as they passed the crockpot again. Was it stew? Something with beans - ok now he was hungry.

"Please get my brother back!" Jayden called after them as they walked from the house. Dean nodded and Sam waved, and they climbed into the Impala.

"Well, it definitely sounds like he was taken by something, but damned if I have any clue where to start with this." Dean started the car and pulled away. Food. Food was the destination he had in mind - and he started driving.

"I say we go talk to the local police and….." Sam trailed off, his voice raising at the end. God, he was so obvious.

"Don't."

"What? Dean it makes sense - Cas is going to have some clue about this." This was clearly a war he wasn't going to win - Dean gave up.

"Fine, you call him."

"I'll put him on speaker." Sam dialed and held the phone out. It rang a few times, then Dean heard the gravely voice that makes his stomach do a flip flop.

"Hey Sam. How's Dean?"

"Hey Cas! I've got you on speaker…" Sam cleared his throat as Dean shot him a dirty look. They rounded the corner to an old burger joint. Sign on the window said Grade B - just the kind he likes. Delicious with a chance of food poisoning.

"We've got an interesting problem." Sam went into detail about what they found at the house, with few murmurs from either man to interrupt. "So, we were wondering if you had any ideas?"

"I'm afraid I don't know much." The angel started, "But I do know that Santa isn't real."

There was a pregnant silence on either end of the phone - followed by the growl of Dean's stomach.

"Uh, yeah, we know that." Dean sneered. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Well it stands to reason that the same type of lore that surrounded Christmas and Santa also created Krampus - so I doubt he's an actual creature." Cas's voice through the phone sounded exasperated. Dean could just picture him - standing with the phone to his year, his eyebrows furrowed, his tie slightly askew, his dark brown hair haphazardly tossed…..Dean cleared his throat.

"Clearly something mythical is taking these kids." Sam stared ahead and didn't even flinch as he added, "I think we could really use an extra set of hands out here Cas."

"What the-" Dean barked but Sam pressed mute on the phone before Castiel could hear the rest of a string of curses fly from his mouth.

"Oh, uh, sure, if you guys think you need me, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thanks Cas, see you soon." Sam unmuted the phone and then hung up before Dean could protest. At least to the angel.

"What the fuck Sam?!" Dean opened the door to the Impala and burst out of it, shouting. Sam was close behind, but not groveling - on the contrary he looked proud of his scheme. The wind howled around them - it was a pretty cold day for New Mexico. But it didn't even touch Dean - his blood boiled with anger just beneath his skin.

"Your fight was ridiculous. You guys need to make up if we're going to work together to stop the darkness. I made a judgement call." Sam was flippant but insistent - clearly he believed me made the best choice. And that putting himself in charge was the good call.

"Damnit - I don't need you to Doctor Phil me and Cas." Dean stopped himself from pounding a closed fist against the hood of the Impala - the damn car had been through enough. "Why can't you just leave it alone?"

"Because he's important to you, Dean."

It's when Sam says things like that - it splits Dean in half. Part of him is all rage - that's the part on the outside, the face he shows to the world. Denial, refusal, shouting, screaming anger. Because fuck anyone, even Sam, that would assume what's important to him. But the other side of him actually hears what his brother is saying, and considers it. Yeah, at the end of the day, Sam and Cas are his number one and two priorities in life. And he hates that they've been fighting. But doing the whole "talking through our feelings" bit gives him the dry heaves. The dueling sides tangle until he finally ends the struggle with-

"Fine. Let's eat."

* * *

The motel room was nearly pitch in darkness when Castiel finally arrived. Sam was snoring softly on the other bed but Dean was wide awake, staring at the popcorn ceiling. The old Cutlas rumbled into the parking lot, nearly deafening against the silence of two in the morning. He waited to hear the sound of a car door slam, but it never came. The friggin guy was just going to wait outside all night so as not to wake them. What a martyr.

For a few minutes underneath starchy sheets, he considered leaving him out there - the angel doesn't really sleep much, and besides, inviting him in meant there was a chance they'd have to speak to one another, something that Dean still hoped in vain he could avoid. But if it was this damn cold in their hotel room, it had to be worse out there - the cold day had lead to a fairly frosty night. Grunting, he swung his legs out of the bed, pulled his shoes and coat on and ventured into the dimly lit parking lot towards the Cutlas.

Cas jumped out of the vehicle as soon as he saw him, clearly amped up from the drive. His emotions were easy to read - he was worried, waiting for the rather large Dean-shaped explosion he had been gearing himself up since he left the bunker.

"Dean! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you-"

"It's ok man, I wasn't sleeping anyway. Come inside, it's freezing out here." Dean found it was suddenly surprisingly easy to be mellow once he laid eyes on Cas again. It was like being mad at a cute puppy - they don't really understand why they've disappointed you but they are going to jump all over the place trying to make you love them again.

They both trailed back inside quickly, and Dean turned up the heat. He didn't know if angels got cold but he sure as shit was. Sam didn't even stir at their entry.

"How was the drive?" Dean started - maybe if he didn't address the trenchcoat draped elephant in the room, Cas would avoid it too. He walked over to the nightstand and grabbed his half empty bottle of rotgut whiskey, and then, because he's a classy guy, nabbed two plastic cups off the tray in the bathroom. Pouring them generously he sat down at the tiny table and Cas followed suit, taking a chug before he spoke.

"Peaceful, actually. I like driving at night. And I listened to one of your tapes - Bad Company, I think?"

"Oh yea, that's a good one…" Dean took a sip and tapped his feet a little, the rhythm of his favorite cut off that album springing to his mind. He hummed a few bars despite himself, feeling his worries fade thinking about the slow bass guitar, the drums sounding like a heartbeat. Lost in the moment, he started singing softly.

"Walkin down this rocky road

Wondering where my life is leading

Rolling on, to the bitter end.

Finding out along the way

What it takes to keep love living

You should know, how it feels my friend…."

"Oh, 'Ready for love' - that one was particularly good." Cas spoke in a hushed tone, though Dean doubted Sam was sleeping through this. He was making a real show of acting like it, however.

"But those weren't the lyrics that stuck out to me - it was 'Now I'm on my feet again, better things are bound to happen. All my dues surely must be paid.'" The lines were spoken and not sung, yet there was a tenor to Cas's voice he couldn't place. It reverberated around the room, deep and settling. Like a lullaby scratched out on gravel. And it was almost painfully beautiful. Dean closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to not react.

"I get your point Cas."

"No Dean..." He took another gulp, finishing his whiskey and reaching out, placing his open hand on Dean's wrist. Dean looked up from staring at his plastic cup, wishing he could crawl inside and never have to meet those striking blue eyes again. But meet they did, and it shot him full of adrenaline and something else - something heavy that sat in his chest. "I shouldn't have pushed you and I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too. I know you just want what's best for me." It felt very comfortable for the two of them to be touching so Dean didn't move his hand away - he used his other hand to grab his cup and drink. "When this job is over, we should catch a concert. Something good though - I wonder if Bad Company is still touring?"

And like that, their argument was glossed over, at least for now - because of course their argument was never about the concert. They hadn't done this in what felt like the longest time; staying awake in the dark talking about life in hushed tones. They used to do it more, when they first met. Eventually Sam began snoring again. He must have lost interest. The case didn't even come up - they'd discuss it when Sam woke up anyway. This was a part of life Dean was hesitant to admit he was happy he got to experience - having a true best friend, someone who understood the life but he didn't have to watch out for. Given the path he set himself out on (or was it his Dad that set him on this path? Or God?) he doubted anyone would stick around long enough to become this for him. But as they softly chuckled about an old episode of Doctor Sexy, he silently thanked whatever fate ruled their lives for this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The next morning came swiftly - Dean had gotten his four hours of sleep while Cas watched some TV. He had to admit (very quietly, and only to himself) that there was something really comforting about his presence when he stayed with them. Something more than just a third set of ears, listening for trouble. He awoke slowly to the sounds of Sam and Cas exchanging morning pleasantries.

"So what's our next move?" Cas asked, hasting a glance over at Dean as he sleepily rubbed his hand across his face.

"We ended up at the police station yesterday after we visited the Parks." Sam's voice had a groggy rumble to it, but he was already sitting at the table with Cas, Dean observed, as he opened his eyes. "The officer's over there didn't have much to add that we didn't already know - but it looks like there was another family that experienced a very similar abduction about four days ago. Not sure how we missed it."

"Apparently they're in the same class - the two kids that were abducted. Some school for eggheads." Dean said, catching a whiff of his own morning breath and cringing. "We should probably hit the school and the house where the other kid was taken. We've got nothing other than that. I'm serious, we might really be dealing with a run of the mill pedophile."

"Yea, those aren't words that are usually spoken together. We'll split up. I'll visit the house - you guys get the school." Sam stood and walked to his duffle bag, pulling out some clothes for the day. Of course he wanted them to split up - he was still trying to be their therapist. Dean was too tired to argue. "With any luck this guy or monster or whatever has left some kind of trace behind."

"Ok." Cas declared and stood, looking a bit lost. He looked down at his hands and then back up. "I'll go get us some breakfast food." And with that, he took off, Sam looking at the door as it shut.

"You guys ok?" He hastened to ask, running his long fingers through his hair and turning to face Dean.

"Are you asking if we kissed and made up? Yeah - we're cool. Told you it wasn't a big deal."

"Well, no. I don't really need to know if you kissed…."

"Seriously?!" Dean's head shot up from where he was digging through his bag, trying to find a clean shirt. His eyebrows raised and his eyes wide, he searched for a witty retort but...nothing came. That comment had stopped him cold. Then, like an old engine finally turning over, the wheels in his brain started functioning again and he replied, "Why would I kiss Cas?!"

As Dean watched, Sammy turned into his bratty, fifteen year old self again with the biggest eye roll he could muster. "Dean, come on. You're my brother. You don't think I know when you like someone? I'm just sorry you can't see it yourself."

"See what, myself, exactly." Each word was it's own threat.

"Nevermind, forget it." Sam huffed and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Dean sat on the edge of the bed, his mind racing with rage. Kiss Cas? Sure he's thought about it a few times, in desperate moments, or when the angel parts his lips just slightly after asking a question.…Alright - maybe more than a few times. But where does that lead? Trouble, that's where, plain and simple. He could squeeze in a few one night stands with random bar ladies every once in awhile, just to make sure the pipes were still working and to let off some steam but hook up with Cas - that could only go one way. They would burn hot and quick, torching their solid friendship along with it. And making anything last was futile - a waste of both of their time, when there was so much to fight and so little chance they'd both make it. Darkness, Crowley, whatever the fuck else the universe decided to throw at them...no. He wouldn't let his brain go there and frankly, he was pissed at Sam for trying to lead him down that path. None of this will end well, and to pretend otherwise, other than what would surely be a great screw, was just cruel and unrealistic.

He dressed quickly as he thought, buttoning his jeans and grabbing at the bed for his shirt when Cas reappeared, letting himself in and carrying a tray of coffees and a bag of pastries that filled the room with a fresh buttery smell. The angel stopped abruptly at the sight of a shirtless Dean, panning his gaze to give him a once over before averting his eyes downward. For his part, the hunter threw on his shirt faster.

"Thanks Cas." His voice was soft as he padded over to the small table, grabbing a doughnut and coffee. Though he never let himself mentally think of Cas in a romantic sense, he still loved the way he sometimes gave this all-powerful being pause, however brief. It was one hell of an ego boost. Their eyes met and dammit, he thought about it. That romantic crap. Just for just a moment - what it would be like to reach out and cup Castiel's chin, Dean's callused fingers rubbing against his stubble. Would he be surprised? Or would Dean be surprised at how unsurprised he was?

Sam emerged from the bathroom sharply, giving Dean a jump and snapping him out of his thoughts. It was probably for the best.

* * *

The classroom was at the end of a long hall - the walls lined with awards, plaques, commendations, state championship lists, you name it. Clearly the students here were top brass, and Dean expected nothing less after meeting Tracey the day before. The students, however, were far from the hyper intelligent drones he was expecting - on the contrary, they opened the door to complete chaos.

"Woa!" Dean could hardly stop himself from shouting as a whiffle ball flew right past his head. There were about twenty children in the room, and they were literally everywhere - climbed on top of desks, book-shelves, underneath bean bags and all of them screaming and yelling wildly - it was out of control. Out of sheer fatherly instinct, Dean let out a booming "Everybody, quit it right now!"

The entire room paused. Most of the children were still smiling as they froze - clearly they weren't all that used to being disciplined - they thought this was a game. From the corner a large chair turned around and in it, a short young woman with soft brown hair absolutely covered in play doh. Though she didn't appear to be tied down she still didn't move from her seat, her expression dejected as her eyes sized up the two of them. They looked the part of dapper agents, Cas having borrowed a suit of Dean's that was too long in the legs and too tight in the shoulders. It hung off him in a way that Dean was pretty sure should be pleasing to whatever woman looks at him - but she clearly was unaffected.

"Who are you?" She asked with very little enthusiasm and even less interest, a glob of green play doh dropping from her bangs to her lap.

"I'm Agent Mitchell and this is Agent Wilson, and we're with the FBI." Dean took the lead as Cas was never very good with lies on the fly. "We'd like to speak with you privately outside if we can."

"Sure - whatever." The woman replied, sliding out of the chair as the children began to move again, quietly at first and then encouraged by one another back into the previous fervor. Cas closed the door to the madness behind them and the hall was miraculously quiet given the chaos just on the other side of the wall.

"Thank you, Miss-?"

"Jackson. Fran Jackson." Her voice was withdrawn, defeated. It was easy to see why - this must be her entire life, those kids ignoring her and overrunning the class day to day. Dean almost felt sorry for her until he thought about Ben and his little time spent parenting - all kids really needed was some structure. It looked like there was none in sight in that classroom.

"Miss Jackson, we're here about your two students that were abducted - Brayden and Scott." He started in his most official sounding voice. Her face changed at their names but only slightly, eyes turning downward before looking Dean directly in the eye. She seemed to grow a foot when she did that.

"There wasn't anything special about them, if that's what you're asking." Fran replied pointedly. "Rotten boys, just like the rest of em. Sounds like we have a pervert in our town."

"Yes, it certainly seems that way…" Dean trailed off, her angry demeanor putting him off his game. He's never met a teacher that so clearly hated not only what she did but her students as well.

"Why are you a teacher?" Cas blurted, and Dean was unsure that he wasn't somehow reading his mind.

"Always been a teacher - never been one to a class this bad though." She answered in an offhanded manner. Her expression changed again to anger. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Uh, nothing m'am. I'm just, uh, writing a book." Yep - Cas was the worst liar.

"Well leave that chapter out!" She barked and the smiled snidely to herself. "Anything else?"

"No ma'am, I think we've about covered all of our questions." Couldn't be further from the truth, but clearly they weren't going to get any additional information out of this woman. Maybe Sam could run a background check?

"Yeah, alright." She opened the door wide to the pandemonium, and returned slamming the door behind her. Dean peered through the small window on the door at the kids again - they had gotten into the paint. Most all of them were covered in red paint smears, and they were taking turns pouring it on their hands and running them along the length of the back wall.

"Well that was pointless." Cas grumbled.

"Yeah…" Dean started to pull away when he saw something through the window outside on the other side of the class - a brief flash of red. He wasn't entirely sure it wasn't a kid, and he repositioned himself to smash his face nearly against the glass.

"I think I see something outside Cas, lets check." He felt under his arm for his gun as he briskly walked down the hall, the angel close at his heels. They took an emergency exit and walked along the edge of the building, the outside lined with some short trees and outside of that, a crowded parking lot.

They moved in tandem, quiet and yet completely in communication, walking up and down the aisles of the parking lot. Dean felt proud of the way he had taught Cas to hunt like this - Castiel had always been a warrior, but being a hunter required stealth and instinct, something that he didn't exactly come with. They weaved their way through the cars, the only sounds coming from the playground on the other side of the school. The angel was so nimble on his feet, it was slightly distracting.

Finding nothing, Dean finally called it off with a sigh. He turned to him and shrugged. "I must be seeing things-"

Castiel's blue eyes widened as he called out "Dean!" and all of the sudden his world went black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Dean was vaguely aware of the smell of asphalt way too close to his face as he came to. He could hear sounds of a struggle in his haze, but one voice cleared his head like a shot of adrenaline. That voice screamed as Dean pushed his head up and watched as a full sized Krampus slashed a claw forward, catching it's sharp nails across Castiel's chest. He reached into his coat for his gun frantically and not finding it, moved lower to the knife he kept wrapped around his ankle.

"Shit!" Dean exclaimed, charging at the monster as Cas fell sharply to his knees. Krampus turned his attention to Dean, pulling back its long mouth into a smile and gesturing with open arms. A testimate to how often he fights hideous things, the scary sight barely gave him pause. At the last minute Dean dodged to his left and thrust his blade upward into the beast's side, and it cried out with a haggard, horrifying cry. And just like that the monster was myst, disappearing right in front of him, the blade crashing to the pavement with a twang. Dean yelped in shock, trying to regain focus - the hit to his head still ringing in his ears. Why the hell had it disappeared? Was it a ghost? Or something else? Cas was crumpled on the ground behind him, and he turned and dropped to crouch at his side.

"Cas, you alright?" But he was not moving, hardly breathing. The hunter reached out his hands tentatively to place them on his side and was surprised to feel how tense he was, like a coiled spring.

"Dean- something….is wrong." Cas' words were spoken with great care, through clenched teeth. He was curled into the fetal position tightly. "There was something - on the - ahhhhhh!"

Dean flinched as the angel cried out in pain, but his brain went into a cold, analytical mode. He couldn't afford to get emotional right now. Cas was pretty juiced up, albeit with someone else's grace - it takes a lot to take down this angel this quick. There must have been something on the claws like a poison - either way, they weren't going to fix anything here.

"Hey, we need to get out of here. I'm going to try to carry you. Do you think you could hold onto my neck if I pick you up?" Dean positioned himself over the angel, who looked up at him, still clearly in pain, like he had grown a second head.

"I'm - ahhhhh…." He sucked in a sharp breath. "I'm too heavy for you…" Cas tried rolling onto his stomach to prop himself up, but cried out again.

"Damnit, don't argue with me!" Dean moved quickly but tenderly, rolling him onto his back. "I'm going to need to sit you up a little to be able to pick you up, ok? I'll make it fast."

Castiel nodded but was silent, his mouth a thin line as perspiration started to form at his temples. Dean had never seen him in so much pain, and if he stopped for one second to think about it he'd panic for sure. He looped the angel's arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug and swiftly stood. The cry that left his lips was deep, primal and right in Dean's ear. Like his whole body was being ripped in two. Just as quickly, Dean bent down and brought his arm under Castiel's knees, pulling him up and tight against his chest. Yeah, ok he was fucking heavy - but holding him this close made him feel like he could help him, however strange that sounded.

Problem was, despite whatever excruciating pain he was in, he was still trying to help Dean by holding onto his neck tightly, attempting to support some of his own weight. What a freaking martyr.

"Relax Cas, I've got you." Dean grumbled against his forehead, and started walking as fast as he could towards the Impala that was blissfully only a few aisles over. In hindsight he could have gotten the car and brought it over...too late now.

He tried to control the panic in his voice as they peeled out of the parking lot, having dialed Sam's number. "Cas is hurt." He said shortly. "Bad. We found Krampus but he got away. I'm taking him back to the hotel."

"Ok, I'll be there as soon as I can." Sam sounded way too calm to Dean, but that's probably because he was beginning to freak out, as he now had ten minutes in the car where Cas couldn't see his face and he could lose it a little. The angels labored breathing in the backseat was nearly louder than the roar of the engine.

"Dean…"

"I'm going as fast as I can buddy, hang on..."

"I need you - to know…."

"Oh no, no goodbye confessions, Cas. You shut your damn mouth." Tears threatened to fall from his green eyes as he spun around the corner towards the hotel. Not that he had any idea what he was going to be able to do there that he couldn't do in the parking lot or the Impala for Cas. All he knew was he was beginning to lose focus on how to help him because he was beginning to fear he'd really lose him - but Sam would be level headed. Sam could help. Get Cas to Sam. Get Cas to Sam.

* * *

The angel seemed easier to carry from the Impala to the hotel room, and he softly lay him down on his bed, finally getting a good look at his chest. The crisp white shirt was drenched in blood, and he ripped it open to reveal many shallow scratches but one main deep cut, starting from the top of his right shoulder and ending on the left side of his navel. It would likely need stitches in places but for now he took a clean white towel and pressed it against the wound to stop the flow of blood. The pressure caused Cas to open his eyes wide with shock - he had passed out a bit in the car and was groggy, but the pain woke him up again.

"Help me out man - I can't fix it if I don't know what's happening."

"This wound - it's sucking the life from me. I can feel it. My grace - it's trying to heal me but every time it does, it's sucked away. I can't heal myself faster than it's damaging me." His voice was hoarse and constrained, but his eyes shone a different, more brilliant blue than Dean had ever seen. He reached his hand up feebly and wrapped it around Dean's wrist, still pressing down on his chest. "Dean, I don't think we have much time…."

"Sam will be back any second now, and he'll know what to do. Save your breath." Never in his life had he placed so much faith in his baby brother - but at least it was something to cling to. Cas wasn't losing a ton of blood and anyway that wouldn't kill him - there had to have been something on the claw that was coursing its way through the angel's veins, constricting his ability to fix the damage. But they had nothing to go on - nothing in the lore talked about Krampus being able to poison people, let alone angels. Not a damn thing about this made sense, there had to be something they were missing. What kind of poison would take an angel out this fast?

"Listen to me, please!" Castiel gasped and closed his eyes, gripping Dean's wrist even tighter. His chest clenched but he took a shaky breath, trying to remain in control. He couldn't lose it now, he couldn't let himself get swept up in this moment.

"Cas, I'm not saying goodbye to you. I'm not. That's not happening today. Leave it alone." Dean grumbled under his breath, his voice cracking on the last few words. "Just help me figure out how to fight this."

"I'm not sure I can fight this." He convulsed and threw his head back with a cry. It was getting worse. Cas took a breath and regained some composure, enough to speak. "Dean, I always - I rebelled - it was all for you. Everything has been for you."

"Don't, please…" Dean choked out, his mind still running scenario after scenario, each with the same fatal end. The angel wretched his neck back so he was facing Dean again, his eyes glistening with tears. Cas doesn't cry. Everything was upside down. Where the fuck was Sam?!

"I know you never - it doesn't matter. I don't know what will happen if I die, and if I could ever get back….I just need you to know." He paused taking a weak breath, the grip on Dean's wrist growing looser."You changed everything Dean, and you made me live. Angels were never meant to do that. Thank you."

"Stop…" He barely tried to keep the tears from spilling from his eyes. There had to be something he could do - he couldn't lose him, not like this. He tentatively moved one of his hands to cup the side of Castiel's face. It was smoother than he thought it would be - probably from the fresh shave that morning. Even in his achy haze the angel seemed surprised by the gesture, then pained all the more realizing what it could mean.

"I love you Dean. I'm..I'm sorry…"

And in that moment, three things happened at once. Dean's heart ripped painfully from his chest. Cas closed his eyes and stopped moving. And Sam burst through the hotel room door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"No…."

Dean's thumb brushed across Castiel's lower lip and paused there. Behind him, Sam was a stone, unmoving, waiting for some kind of signal from his brother. Dean waited, waited, his eyes clouded with tears. Then finally was rewarded - a hot, shallow breath escaped those parted lips. The angel was still breathing, if only just.

"Sammy…" Dean croaked out, then he cleared his throat but didn't turn to meet his brother's face. "Cas is really sick, I don't know how much time he has. Krampus scratched him - I stopped the bleeding but - I don't - He said it was preventing his grace from healing his vessel. That it was sucking away at it..."

"Shit, ok." Sam was behind him, pulling out his laptop. "That's not how this monster works. That sounds more like-"

"Witchcraft." Dean finished, then pulled away from Cas to face Sam. "Fuck, how did I miss that?!"

"You can beat yourself up later." Sam typed rapidly at the keyboard, eyes frantic.

"Tell me you have a better idea than googling 'Poisons slash spells that kill angels within an hour'?"

Sam huffed but flipped around his laptop, revealing a spreadsheet. "Actually, not google but yea, kinda. I've been keeping track of spells and potions this deadly that I come across when I'm researching. I think I've found one that sounds like what happened here - but the cure is in a book back at the bunker."

"Well never let it be said your obsessive nerding didn't save the day!" Dean exclaimed, then the realization that they were seven hours drive from home hit him like a ton of bricks. "Well fuck, how do we get the cure then?"

"I'll run back to the bunker - I can be back like, ten hours, tops. He'll be fine..." Sam pushed his hair back behind his ears, his brows still furrowed. He always messes with that mop of hair when he's bluffing.

"Sammy - I don't think he has that long…" Dean's face fell and he turned back to Cas, peeling the bloody towel off his chest. The wound still oozed in places but had mostly stopped bleeding. With the towel gone it was easier to see the slight rise and fall of his chest - that at least was a comforting sight.

"Well the only other thing I can think to do is ask a witch - but we only know one." Sam cringed, knowing that the last time Rowena had been involved with Cas it hadn't gone well.

Dean opened his mouth to protest, then quickly shut it. What choice did they have? Per usual to save themselves they were over a barrell and back in bed with the worst of folks. This cycle was exhausting.

"Make the call." he murmured, pulling a blanket over Castiel.

* * *

Sam came back inside after calling the witch, his expression morose. "She'll be here shortly. At least that's what she says."

"She'll come. She can't resist an opportunity to fuck with us. Like mother, like son." Dean mumbled, smoothing the blanket over the top of Cas. The angels expression was pained, but he didn't stir. At least he could try to keep him warm. They stayed in silence for some time, Dean's mind racing with panic over the thought of this being it - his best friend, his hunting partner, his - he couldn't even say, but so much more than that - gone.

"I can't lose him Sammy." He whispered, looking down at Castiel's face.

"We won't, Dean." Sam frowned, trying to think of the right words to say in this moment. "We always find a way to save each other. We'll save him, and then maybe you can tell him how you feel. He deserves that, and so do you."

He should have barked at his brother but the man knew how to cut through his crap better than almost anyone - except for the man nearly dead under his gaze. Instead he nodded absentmindedly and kept his vigil by his side.

* * *

"Honestly, you boys have the worst timing!" Rowena chided, sauntering in the hotel room in a wild floral print dress and sunglasses. "It's not often this Scottish gal gets to the islands, and I was working on my tan!"

"Can it, Rowena, we have business." Sam growled and shut the door behind her. She flashed him a sideways grin, then moved to look at Castiel's sleeping form.

"Oi! It's always business, business with you two. Don't you ever take a vacation?" The small redhead quickly made her way across the room, halted only by Dean who rose for the first time since he had set Castiel down to put a hand out in front of her and stop her from getting any closer.

"Woa there short stuff - keep your distance." He barked defensively.

"Well I'm not sure how exactly you want me to go about helping young Castiel here if you don't let me even touch the poor lad." Rowena put up both of her hands mocking a symbol of surrender. If they didn't know any better, she would seem so harmless. "Don't you think I'm a bit smarter than to try to harm one of you in the presence of all three? You lot are so fiercely protective, like a pack of wolves."

Dean pursed his lips together - but they had already gone this far. He stepped to the side. "Fine, but just touch him - no funny business."

"I'll be leaving all that 'funny business' to you Dean." She said with a wink, and reached out to put a hand on Castiel's forehead. He moaned at her touch but didn't stir further, and she pulled her hand away quickly like she had been burned, her expression concerned.

"Oh well then, that's quite different."

"Well? What the hell is wrong with him?" Panic rose in Dean's voice and he took a breath, trying to keep it under control.

"You were right to suspect witchcraft boys. Quite clever of you." Her brows furrowed as she continued to watch Castiel breathe. "You've found yourself one hell of a witch! It's a powerful spell she cast but I think I can break it."

There was a silence in the room, as the other two waited for the inevitable price they would have to pay. But it didn't come.

"And what do you want in return?" Sam tentatively spoke in an even voice. She turned her head to face him with a smile.

"Nothing - well, nothing now." Rowena corrected, rubbing her hands together. "Let's just say you'll owe me a favor. Scratch that - just Sam. Samuel will owe me one favor, to be paid in full at my request at a later date."

"No deal." Dean quickly followed, stepping between the bed and Rowena. "Only I owe you the favor - not Sam."

"Nope!" She placed her hands on her hips and stood back, trying to look bigger than she was. "It's Sam's favor, or I walk out of here and you can kiss the sweet angel goodbye.."

"Dean, he's my friend too..." Sam started.

"No! It's my fault we're in this mess, I should have to be the one to clean it up!" Dean bellowed, tears threatening to spring to his eyes again. Since when did he become such a sobby bitch?

"Well I'd give you boys some time to talk amongst yourselves but see - this is a limited time offer. I want to head back to my beach and I'd say Castiel here only has about an hour before he's gone so -" Rowena looked up and pointed her finger, waving it back and forth like the second hand on a clock. "Tick tock!"

"Do it." Sam stepped forward. "Save Cas. I will owe you a favor. You have my word."

"Fuck, Sammy!"

"So be it then." The witch rubbed her hands together, crackles of energy splitting around them. She started mumbling a latin phrase, quietly at first, then louder and louder still, the energy of the room filling Dean with a taste of copper, like an old penny.

"Angelica Sanitas!"

Yelling, she thrust both of her hands down on Castiel at once and instantly he sat up, drawing a sharp breath with wide eyes. The moment he awoke the atmosphere of the room calmed, and Dean pushed past Rowena to his side.

"Cas!" He grabbed the man's shoulders, shaking him slightly as he regained focus. His pupils dilated and then he snapped back to reality, his eyes meeting Deans'. For a brief moment his expression was a fury of emotion - relief, elation, then switched quickly to suspicion. If he's alive it means the Winchesters did something stupid.

"What the - what happened?" Castiel looked past Dean to the others, and then his entire expression changed as he saw Rowena, like he had just tasted something sour. He drew a steady breath and then met the hunter's eyes again. "Dean, what did you do?"

"Oh sure, Dean gets all the credit. I'm the one saving your arse!" Rowena spun on her heel, and walked towards the door. "Such an ungrateful little angel. Anyway, I didn't do it for you…." She let her hand smooth down the length of Sam's arm as she walked past him to the door. "I'll be seeing you, Samuel."

Sam, for his part, stood stoically while he was manhandled, and even put up a hand to stop Dean as he lept from the bed at Rowena. She let herself out with a cackle, which was so horrifically cliched he almost had to laugh. Almost.

"Dammit Dean, what deal did you make with her?" Castiel stood accusingly, clearly completely healed by the looks of it, though the deep cut still remained. Dean fought the urge to reach out to him again, instead looking at the bloody towel bunched up on the carpet.

"It wasn't Dean, Cas. I made the deal." Sam cleared his throat and sat back down, as if the gravity of what he did just hit him upside the head. It very likely just did. "I owe her a favor. It won't be a problem."

"That was stupid Sam." Dean growled and turned, walking briskly from the room. He needed some air.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The late afternoon sky was already turning dark, shades of orange and yellow laid out before him. He found himself on the hood of the Impala, warmed from the day's sun, though the day was still brisk. He had turned the car stereo on to provide a distraction, or at least try to calm him. If he wasn't in such a blind rage about the events of the last day it might have actually been a peaceful moment.

But instead he sat, thinking of how literally everything was fucked now, in multiple ways. And wondering if there was a chance in hell he would get any amount of time to himself before one of those men followed him. He wasn't sure which one he wanted to speak to less.

Fucking Sam - of course he stuck his neck out like that. Isn't that so typical. Dean tried so hard all his life to be the one to make the sacrifices so his little brother didn't have to but it seems like that brat always had to go out on a limb. This whole event could have been avoided if he had just been smarter about the hunt and not let his guard down when he was with Cas.

" _It was my destiny, it's what we needed to do._

 _They were telling me - I'm telling you._

 _I was inside, looking outside on millions of faces - but still I'm alone._

 _Waiting, hours of waiting._

 _Paying a penance, I was longing for home._

 _I'm looking out for the two of us - I hope we'll be here when they're through with us."_

The radio crooned softly in the background. And then there was that feeling he got in his gut when he thought about the angel. Like a heavy stone sat in the pit of his stomach, unmoving. He didn't know what was worse - his death confession, or the fact that he lived through it and now they'd have to deal with it. Dean was reasonably sure he could have dealt with the absolute devastation of Castiel dying, knowing he was in love with him. He knew how to live the hard road, he could do pain - that's what the good Lord made alcohol for. What he truly sucks at is anything remotely looking like a relationship, and he's pretty sure he couldn't drink his way through this one.

The reality was, if he was being honest, that he always knew how Cas felt. They've always shared a "more profound bond" and he always knew what that meant. And he's always, _always_ felt the same way. But the way his mind works - to say he doesn't like complications is an understatement. More than that though, he didn't deserve it. The dying confession of unconditional love from a thousand year old all powerful angel? It only served to remind him that his place in this world is the grunt, the heavy artillery. He had a world to save, that's why he was still around - not to prance around writing "Dean + Cas" on his trapper keeper. No, this confession wouldn't change anything, for multiple reasons.

His silent refuge was broken by Cas, of course. The angel had changed into a white shirt, but still wore the bottom pants of Deans suit and they drug across the ground as he neared.

"You know, I should be the angry one." He walked up to the Impala and put his hand on the hood, staring straight ahead squinting at the last of the dying sun. "Neither of you should have ever been so reckless on my behalf. She could have turned on you - I'm not sure why she didn't."

"If you just came out here to berate me Cas, you can stuff it." His words were harsh but his tone was tired. He felt the approach of touchy feely crap slowly building.

"No actually, I came out here because we got a call. There's been another abduction, another boy, same class." He turned to face Dean, his expression pained. He bit at his lip, like had to physically stop himself from saying something, then he shook his head. "We should check it out."

"Yea, ok." Dean hopped off the hood and shuddered a little against the chill of dusk. He looked up into Castiel's blue eyes, which looked like the sea after a storm. Ravaged, turned upside down but oddly calm. They did that thing where they unabashedly stared at each other, as the angels eyes danced around his face. He could only imagine his own expression - he hoped it didn't reveal much. He felt angry and empty - like something had been taken from him he didn't know he needed. And he also desperately wanted to touch him again, to solidify that he was really standing in front of him. Because through all the swirl of emotions he just cataloged, one underlied everything - he almost lost him. He thought he had. And it had sucked the life clear from his chest.

"We good?" Dean asked, surprising himself, but he had to say something and 'I'm so happy you're alive and I love you too and let's have loads of sex' wasn't going to cut it.

Castiel cracked a half smile, and the rock in Dean's gut vanished with a flip. "Yeah."

* * *

Several squad cars surrounded yet another perfectly normal suburban home, the lights flashing a rave in the fresh darkness. The piled out of the Impala, dressed again like fake agents. Sam flashed his badge at the nearest officer as they approached, nodding sagely.

"How long ago?" He cut to the chase.

The young officer hardly batted an eyelash at the three of them initially, looking quite excited by all of the commotion. Clearly this town didn't have a lot of big crimes. He made a show of doing a double take however, realizing that he was dealing with real live (fake) FBI agents.

"Sir! The victim was abducted during the approximate hours of 16:30 and 17:15." He raised his hand in a salute, looking completely ridiculous. Dean nearly rolled his eyes when he noticed Castiel beginning to raise his hand slowly to return the salute. He widened his eyes and shook his head - the hand slowly lowered back into his pocket.

Dean took a look at his cell phone. It was 6:45 - that's pretty quick work for the police. He squinted ahead and nodded at his companions, pulling the crime scene tape up and walking towards the house. There was a woman in hysterics on the sidewalk, clutching an overstuffed teddy bear. Captain Compassion breezed past Dean and crouched next to her, flipping his badge at the officer standing in front of her.

"He just disappeared!" She cried, shaking with each breath. "I swear I'm not drunk or anything!"

"That's an odd thing to swear…" Cas murmured to Dean standing close, just a hair more than normal. If his mind had been remotely on the case in that moment he wouldn't have noticed but as it stood, with the events of the last day, his heart pounded in his chest at the gesture . As nonchalantly as he could, he shrugged. Keep it cool.

"Ma'am, we believe you." Sam coddled, reaching across to pat the woman on her shoulder. "Can you tell us what happened?"

"I was in the kitchen - Henry had just gotten home from school. I pick him up at exactly 4:45 every day or he gets, well, upset." The woman carefully dabbed her eyes with the arm of the teddy bear, her long brown hair slipping past her ears. "He was in the living room eating some cheese and crackers when I heard a commotion. When I came in -" she drew a breath with a shudder, "he was over the shoulder of this, this, hideous monster! And as soon as it saw me it disappeared! The both of them - like they were never there!"

"I know this is going to sound strange, but did were you in any way arguing with your son before the attack?" Dean looked down at her, finally putting some pieces of the puzzle together.

She paused a moment, then sniffled as she nodded. "I - I accidentally brought him Ritz crackers instead of Cheez Its. He kicked me a little - it didn't hurt." She was quick to clarify, but from her tone it seemed like a lie. Seven year old boys can do some damage when they want to. "He's normally such a good boy…"

"I'm sure ma'am." Sam stood and dusted himself, motioning for the three of them to move away.

"Well I think it's pretty obvious there is something about the class." Sam huffed, turning again to survey the chaos at the house.

"Yeah, when we visited the class, before we saw Krampus, those kids were out of friggin control." Dean shook his head, remembering. "I meant to have you run a background check on the teacher - she was an odd bird. How old did she seem to you, Cas?"

"Well visually, maybe late twenties? But the way she spoke - she seemed much older." Cas crossed his arms. "What would a background check reveal anyway? If she were a witch that wouldn't exactly come up."

"No, but her criminal record would. And that might tell us something." Sam jerked his head towards the car. "I left my laptop at the hotel. We can get her address and try to talk to her tonight."

"Sounds like the best we've got!" Dean huffed, and piled back into the Impala and made their way back to the hotel. Along the way they filled Sam in on the rest of their observations at the classroom. Just talking about how out of control those kids were stirred something in Dean. Kids weren't hard to take care of - you just had to give them boundaries and something good to imitate. He was never all that good at the second half, but certainly better than Miss Jackson.

Sam hadn't found much at the home of the second abduction, just more of the strange Stepford wive vibe. What was with this town? At least he got a delicious grilled cheese sandwich out of it. Which reminded Dean - he was freaking starving. A stop must be made before they carried on much longer.

They settled down at a rowdy pub, piled full of coeds all home from college for the holidays. The sounds of Christmas music piped down from the speakers - Dean had to admit, he had almost forgotten that it was just few days until Christmas. For the most part they had always ignored the holiday, it bring with it the reminders of what they've lost over the years. So many friends and family - well who was he kidding - they were all family to him. He wondered idly as he swigged back his stout if Bobby was celebrating in Heaven with Ellen, or if they even got to see each other, or if they even had time as a concept up there at all…

"Penny for your thoughts." Cas interrupted him, wiping the foam of the beer from his upper lip with a nimble tongue. Well, that was distracting. Sam had ordered food and run back to the hotel to get the laptop so they didn't waste too much time - but that left the two of them alone, with alcohol and a lot to say.

"Do they celebrate, you know, up there?" Dean started, pointing and pursing his lips. "Bobby used to love Christmas eve - it was usually quiet, no one was really hunting, and he could just listen to It's a Wonderful Life on the boob tube and drink himself to sleep. He called it his most peaceful night of the year." He smirked at the memory.

Cas took another swig and thought before answering. "Well, yes. Though they can do it whenever they want really - they just have to think it, and it happens. God designed everyone's heaven to be their perfect place where they feel the happiest. So I suppose he will be celebrating with you both on Earth's time, as he seems to have found a way to watch you or at least know what you're doing."

"Well, we don't really celebrate Christmas. We never have." Dean leaned back, starting to feel the rise of his defensive nature and walls. He fought against it though - maybe it was the full beer he had downed when they walked in the door, or maybe it was the confession from earlier that day - either way, he was starting to feel more comfortable letting Cas "in". "I suppose since Mom died, it was never a really happy holiday, and we just grew up with that."

"Is there anything about it you like?" The angel gave a small smile - was he trying to imply something? Or was he just enjoying talking like this?

Dean smiled back slightly. "Yeah, I've always dug egg nog. And there seems to be more pie around the holidays, which is a good thing. Pie and nog - breakfast of champions."

"I used to watch people at Rockefeller Center at Christmas." Cas started. "For probably as long as it's been around. Every year I'd come down and watch them at the ice skating rink. Everyone always seemed so happy to be wearing blades on their feet, falling all over the place and freezing. The whole ritual of it always confused me, until I met you two." He paused and looked at Dean, like he was asking for permission to continue down what may be a touchy feely path. He nodded slightly. "Now I understand that it was never about ice skating - for those people it was about the feeling of Christmas, and the moments where they were flying across the ice without a care. A few wonderful feelings were worth all of the trouble."

"Sammy tried hockey once, when we were growing up. It was during his really awkward phase though, he was growing like a weed and his brain and feet weren't exactly speaking the same language. He was a mess on the rink." Dean chuckled, thinking of the lanky boy spread out across the ice, and the look of joy he had glancing back up at Dean with a fat bloody lip after he fell, ready to do it all over again. "He didn't get to do it long, you know we were always moving. But I think he would have been a good hockey player, if he stayed at it…." He trailed off, reminded bleakly again of the way he had failed to give his brother the normal life he deserved.

Cas didn't say anything for a few moments, looking out at the crowd of people that had somehow become larger in the last ten minutes. Sam would be back soon.

"If I do nothing else for you Dean, I hope someday to convince you that you've done the best you could in everything. And that it was enough."

It was said quietly, but with a determined tone Dean didn't hear often from the angel. The words penetrated the deepest, most sullen part of him and he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. No one had ever said anything so nice and genuine to him in his life. It blazed right past his rage and struck the very truth of his motives, the way he lived. He should have turned away, but he hastened a glance at Cas who was staring boldly from across the table.

"I don't deserve that, Cas." Was all he could think to respond.

"Yes, you do." He replied with fire in his eyes.

Sam showed back up to interrupt, and thank God, because Dean very well may have lept across the table and into the angel's arms if he hadn't.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

They arrived at Fran's house slightly after nine. To say it was bad neighborhood was a bit of a misnomer - it was bad neighborhood for Santa Rosa, or at least the parts they'd seen. The night was bright, with a full moon shining down on the small home. There were a few lights on inside, but no other indication of life.

"How do you want to play this?" Sam chewed on his lower lip, looking over the house.

"I say Cas and I go to the door to speak with her - you go around back. Try to get a good layout of the place. We'll meet back at the car in twenty minutes." Dean checked his coat for his sidearm and knife. Better to stay concealed than go in guns blazing - besides all they knew now was that she was a terrible teacher and kind of a bitch, not that she's done anything wrong. He hastened a glance at the angel's eyes in the backseat, which looked solidly determined. "Ready?"

"Always." He replied, and the three of them jumped out and made their way to the house. Sam dashed around the side through some bushes, and Cas reached up to knock at the door.

"Wait, what are we going to say is the reason for our visit?" He whispered suddenly, turning to Dean in a panic.

"Uh - I'll come up with something-"

The door burst open, Fran standing in its outline in silk robe and slippers. It hugged her tiny figure in a way that was obscene, but she didn't seem to mind that nearly nothing was left to their imagination. Quite a stark contrast from the humdrum but weird teacher they had observed earlier.

"Hello agents." She purred, flashing a smile. Dean had to admit she was much hotter not covered in play doh, but just as scary.

"Uh, hello." He coughed, caught off guard. "There has been another abduction, one of your students. A Henry Wilkinson?"

"Oh that's really too bad." Her words were meant to convey sympathy but her tone was anything but. She looked like she wanted to pounce on the both of them, her hand idly caressing the door frame. "How can I help?"

"We were hoping to talk with you about him, see if we could find any links between the boys?" Her eyes were all over Dean as he spoke, but mostly at his mouth. It was unnerving. Cas exhaled sharply at his side.

"Do please come in boys, I'm sorry you've found me in my all-togethers." She moved aside and let them in, closing the door lightly behind her. Her movements were hypnotic as she moved swaying from side to side, walking them into her living room. The house itself was covered in candles and smelt of sage. It was starting to become painfully obvious that she was a witch. Maybe she had conjured the Krampus? That sort of made sense. Now they just had to trap her...

"Can I get either of you anything?" She turned, hand on her hip and facing the door to the kitchen.

"No ma'am, we won't be long." Dean winked, trying to go on the offense, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Cas frown. Suddenly he heard a crash come from outside of the house, and Fran groaned, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.

"Damnit! I was hoping to have my way with you before you found them! What a waste…." She smiled and rubbed her hands together, electricity cracking from the finger-tips. "No worries - my Krampus will make short work of your friend, and then I will finish those annoying little brats. Recedo!"

Dean flew backwards across the room, slamming head first into the wall. He slid down with a grunt, leaning forward to catch his head. Damnit that hurt. Trying to recover quickly, he grabbed in his coat for his gun but was frozen in place. He glanced up at the witch in a panic as Castiel threw himself at her, punching her in the head solidly.

She yelped and stepped back, shaking and trying to regain her footing. In that moment Dean was able to move and he leapt across the room towards her again, knife drawn. Fran growled and cursed, lifting her hands up in the air and yelling "Fulgur!"

The room exploded, lightening hitting Dean square in the chest. He could hear Cas call out his name from across the room, but his eyes were clouding over darkly - he was losing consciousness. He fell on his side with a thud. The lightning had sped up his heart but he couldn't hear it now, nor could he draw breath. His body began to go into shock as he felt Castiel reach him, pulling him into his arms. He felt his steady hands on his chest, and a warmth radiating starting from his heart and moving outward. He reached out to it - Cas had healed him before, but he'd never felt his grace so potently. He could almost taste it - sort of sweet and salty, like salted butterscotch. Suddenly the warmth stopped, and he could hear the angel groan as he was hit, but Dean still couldn't open his eyes.

He felt himself being laid down softly, his heart beating at a snail's pace, breath coming in shallow waves. The sounds of Castiel laying into the witch were static in the background, and it seemed to stretch on forever. He felt like he was in a void, not quite alive and not quite dead either, waiting patiently for his body to take it's next breath.

Desperately he wanted to help, to save Cas - but his body wouldn't budge. And what's going on with Sam? He's got to get up - he has to get up….

The sounds stopped and so did his heart, unsure whether to anticipate death from the witch or life from Cas. He was relieved as the warmth returned to his chest, and his breathing returned to normal. Blinking, he opened his eyes at a bleeding Castiel, worry pouring from his features. His eyes looked hopeful as green met blue, and he smiled down at Dean through bloody lips.

"You ok?" He spoke gently, his eyes searching over Dean's face. My God, Cas looked incredible. His face was cut in several places, like she had shot glass at him, but his eyes shone a steady blue. He was flush from the fight, and there was a redness to his cheeks and nose. His head was turned in such a way that he could see the frantic pulse of his jugular at the corner of his sharp jaw. Dean never took the time to really look at him after battle and that was probably a good idea, because he'd never seen him so raw, so undone, and it made him lose all sense of rational thought. Without thinking (because he must have looked like a bemused idiot) he reached up and cupped the angels face, brushing his thumb slightly against his puffy bottom lip. The gesture didn't surprise Castiel this time, and he sighed into his hand, relief washing over his features.

"I think so." Dean moved to get up - he didn't want to but it suddenly occurred to him that Sam might be hurt. Cas helped him to his feet, keeping a hand at his back to steady him. He glanced in the corner at the pile of ash that used to be Fran Jackson. "We need to find Sam."

As if on cue, his baby brother chose that moment to saunter in, grinning sheepishly. "Hey guys! I found the kids!"

Super. He totally wasn't watching the last minute or so between Dean and Cas. No sir.

He led them to an outside basement where Henry, Brayden and Scott were huddled together. As they called the police, Sam filled Cas and Dean in on his side of the story - he had found the boys but also an angry Krampus. They fought and he had the upper hand, when suddenly the damn thing disappeared. He was created by Fran, and once she was defeated it vanished.

"And how exactly did you take out the witch, Cas?" Sam asked, as Dean crouched with the boys, talking to them in hushed tones about important things like which was the better superhero, Spiderman or the Hulk. Both men watched him quietly for a moment, then the three boys burst into giggles, wiping away tears.

"You both forget sometimes that I, in your words, can kick some ass. She was planning on consuming these children's souls to extend her life. I suspect she was several hundred years old - she's probably done this across multiple cities for a long time." He added, hesitantly. "Her interest in Dean was a bit more - adult in nature, but it was her intention to consume his as well."

"For the record, I don't easily forget your 'all powerful angel' status." Sam smirked. "Sounds like she pissed you off Cas."

"You could say that." He replied, hiding his smile. "Power like hers in a body so old - it leaks to an extent. I imagine that is why those children were so ill behaved - they were picking up on her bad energy. Look at them now..."

The smallest boy, Henry, was showing Dean a scratch on his arm and talking in big gestures, clearly about when we was attacked.

"That's pretty gnarly, man! You were really brave! Check it out, I've got one too." He pulled up his sleeve to show off one of a multitude of scars he'd acquired over the years. At his point he didn't even remember where they were all from - but the boys oh'd and ah'd over his arms like he was a war hero and for a moment, he sucked it all in. The sound of the sirens knocked him back into reality and he glanced up at Sam and Cas, who were quietly watching him. Normally he would have barked at them for staring, but instead he was just glad they were all three standing there relatively unharmed, and he smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Cas fussed over Dean as soon as they got back to the hotel claiming that he hadn't entirely healed the damage to his heart, which for the record had stopped completely from the lightening during the fight. Dean insisted that he felt fine, but then Sam joined in and the both of them wouldn't stop until he agreed to lay down and let Cas finish - the lewdness of that phrase not escaping his dirty mind.

Sam claimed that he was still lit from the fight and told them he was going to go fetch burgers and beer, as Dean settled against the headboard. Cas had healed most of the damage to himself in the car, but a few cuts remained. He said he wanted to use the rest of his juice on Dean.

"With all the horrible food you eat, we cannot afford to have your heart in any worse condition." He murmured, pressing an open palm against his chest. The warm feeling started again, but Dean didn't taste it this time, much to his dismay. Cas closed his eyes in concentration, giving Dean the opportunity to stare unabashedly at his face. His brows drew close together, and his lips parted slightly. Full, pale lips, just slightly moist as his breath ghosted across them. Dean was drawn in, mesmerized, the heat of his grace filling him from his top to his toes. If he didn't do it now, he may only get the nerve again after considerable liquid courage, and Cas deserved better than that.

He surged forward, pressing his lips chastely against the angels' and breathing in sharply. Cas made a surprised noise but quickly recovered, turning his hand to clench the front of Dean's shirt and pull him closer, moving his lips against his. The angel's lips were soft - he could drown in the feeling of his mouth. Dean moved his hands up to cup his face, pouring all his unsaid emotions into his kiss, slow and strong.

Cas slowly pulled away, breathless and ruffled. He was beautiful. And dammit, as much as he knew he didn't deserve it, he was his - if only for this moment. Their eyes met and it filled Dean with courage to speak.

"I don't want to fuck us up." He started, unsure of what he wanted to say. "You're my best friend...dammit I don't know. I don't want that to change..." The bold feeling started to slither away, and he pulled back.

"Dean, nothing you could do could change the fact that I'm your friend. Don't you feel the same way?"

"See, in our line of work, we can't say that." He threw up his hands, starting to feel an anger burn deep in his gut. Their lives were so cruel sometimes. "We can't say what will work out, or what won't. Nothing ever goes to plan in our lives. Not ever."

"Fair enough." Castiel's eyes searched Dean's face, and he bit at his bottom lip, all the fuller from the kiss. "I can promise you that I will always try to be your friend. Just - don't push me away. Please."

His heart broke a little seeing the angel beg for something as simple as his presence. Cas shifted a little, looking down at Dean's lips.

"Why did you kiss me Dean?"

He was being baited, he knew. But they way his angel was looking at him, pleading - how could he resist?

"I -" he paused, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. "I needed you to know. You almost died today. I don't know what I would have done - I needed you to know that I felt... the same."

Dean silently pleaded that Cas would understand his meaning, and of course he did. The angel smiled a brilliant smile, that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. He leaned forward again, catching Dean's lips in a searing kiss. Somewhere he had always known that if this happened it would be hotter than anything he had experienced and it was - but what he hadn't expected is how natural it felt. The way they moved against each other, like they were somehow joined - it was like a dance. They moved to lay down, sucking and pulling at each other's lips with growing speed. Cas bit down slightly at Dean's lower lip and he moaned, the air sucked into Cas's mouth. Their hands gripped each other tightly, like they were teetering on the edge of a cliff and they had to hang on to each other to keep from falling. But maybe falling with Cas would be the best thing he's ever done.

"I don't deserve this…" Dean murmured, half to himself, pulling away from Cas and nuzzling against his neck. He sighed in response.

"Yeah, you do. But we'll work on that." Castiel replied, his voice rumbling across the top of Dean's head. He rubbed circles across the hunter's back and drew him in closer. Sam would be back soon, but they didn't care. For the moment they had each other, and right now was all anyone was ever guaranteed anyway.

* * *

 **A/N** Thanks for reading! I wanted to write a Christmas story, and it went a little differently. I'm working on a sequel about the favor Sam owes Rowena and it will involve a lot more Cas/Dean man sexy time, now that we've gotten all that pesky emotional stuff out of the way :)


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